Monday, April 24, 2006

I really respect the media people . When I know these guys can to ruin this birth of mine by sending out one bulletin announcing some guy called hitler's soul is allegedly a 'videshi taakat' planning to blow up all the ladies toilets in the capital this independence day , I got to respect them. And lately , I have started to develop a real nice feeling about these guys . I mean , when I get bored of burning my sister's barbie dolls , I just need to flip on some news channel to keep myself busy till the next barbie burning session .

A couple of days ago , a guy called Praveen Mahajan pulled out a pistol and went boom boom boom . When the smoke cleared , we had a Praveen Mahajan thinking 'Shucks , I knew I should not have watched so many violent movies as a kid' , a Pramod Mahajan thinking 'Huh , is this heaven ?' and thousands of journalists , correspondents , TV presenters and newspaper boys around the country thinking ' Wow , now this is some masala for the next ten days '.

Sidenote 1 - For those stuck in some remote tropical forest of Nicargua , with no internet , newspapers , television or even a radio set around , Pramod Mahajan is a big guy in Indian Politics and he was shot at by his younger bro two days ago . On a personal note , he has never interfered in my lazy and dreamy life , and I had almost forgotten of his existence before he was almost wiped out of existence by his brother .

Sidenote 2 - In a dramatic move , Dharmu Jee has graciously accepted to be the first ever President of the yet to be estabished Hitler's soul's blog patrons association . More on that later .

So I was lying on the cool floor of my home and wondering why they put three blades in the ceiling fan over me when my sister came in from the drawing room and announced 'Pramod Mahajan has been shot by his bro' with the solemnity of a pope.

I quickly concluded the presence of three fan blades was a mere coincidence and went over to the TV . There was this young lady , around twenty six , wearing a sharp business suit , light pink lipstick , and the perfect 'Main lut gayi , barbaad ho gayi' expression on her face .

The camera stays on the presenter , instead of moving onto a emotionally shaken Deepak . The lady is visibly uncomfortable because of this . She tries to smile , remembers Pramod has just been shot and quickly recaptures her 'my house is on fire' expression . She focuses on the tip of her nose while secretly hoping that the technical guy will soon come back from the toilet and connect to Deepak , which he does after coming back from the toilet , smoking a ciggarette , and a quick call to his wife .

Deepak is standing with an even more intense 'My house is on fire and even my pants are' expression . A big iron gate can be seen in the background . A few wide eyed people jostle each other in the background and look directly into the camera , trying hard to contain the joy of being on TV.

Rakhi , the lady presenter quicky realises that Deepak is woefully short of anything sensible to say and makes a mental note to send him an abusive sms after the telecast . Meanwhile , Deepak has tried to grab Pramod's neighbours , milkman , plumber , and beautician to express their opinion on the incident , and has successfully grabbed Master Deenanath , who taught Mathematics to Pramod Mahajan in class IV .

And even when Deepak decides to take a break and go to the nearest wine shop , special half n hour bulletins called 'Maut ka taandav' , 'Bhai bana khooni' , 'Khoon ki Holi' and such other names are being beamed across news channels since the day Praveen Mahajan decided to spoil his big bro's breakfast . Now that they have dissected Praveen , his mind , his motives , his childhood bedwetting memories , his dog's eating habits and his driver's family plans , they have been getting all kinds of doctors on television who pull out big human body charts , splotch three big red dots on it and say 'Goliyan yahan , yahan aur yahan lagi hain'. I hear a particularly elaborate telecast about the function of liver in the human body , especially Mr.Mahajan's , is coming up this evening .

Anyway , it's not that I don't want Mr.Mahajan to get well . Like any other human being , he should live a healthy and fine life , and I hope he recovers soon enough . It is just that I am a little amused by the way media is chugging away at this . For all the Mahajan Fan Club activists , I am too relaxed in my life of mindfulness ( Am getting serious about this Vipassana Meditation thing ) , reading ( Am reading 'Many lives , Many masters' , a true story about reincarnation . Fascinating. ) , watching TV ( Am watching particularly educative late night shows ) and avoiding a bath , so don't heat up on me please . And don't talk to the media people about me . Am no videshi taakat . The ladies toilets in Delhi are safe .

Friday, April 21, 2006

It is past midnight and this is the time there is no airtel lady or sabjiwallah or mummy to disturb my rangeen thoughts .Since the day I have landed home , everybody has been telling me that I need to be more mature and responsible .Today I was walking down the street with a friend and we see this auto . So as we are passing it , I decide to talk to the auto driver .

The guy reacted with the seriousness of a lung cancer patient , and remembering it , now I really think I should mature up a little .

Anyway , without my computer connected to a hostel LAN brimming with anything from bhojpuri movies to documentaries on mexican goats , I feel as helpless as a cockroach lying on its back when I have to spend 14 minutes to download a single track.I downloaded 'Ari Ari' by bombay rockers last night and according to ma , it sounds like some haryanvi carpenter calling out for his tools .The song playing on my system right now is 'You are beautiful' by James Blunt.I think songs like this and aadat , which are about heartbreaks and longing tend to do better than others because almost every guy who lacks a red convertible and the looks of a hrithik-abhishek combo pack has some kinda heartache. Next up on winamp is 'Sexy mama' by Bombay rockers again . I have two mamajis and I need to be a rhino with a dozen viagra shots to find any of them remotely attractive , so Bombay rocker's mama ji must be something . Actually these two years in the hostel have made my ears addicted to music . My room there was like a non stop music station with my winamp almost reporting me to the software welfare commitee for overuse. But please , I am not one of those intellectual and artistic souls who would give up their wife's ovaries to support some music band and eat the kids of the guy who won't . I have bumped into guys with egos the size of a camel's hump hanging from their heads who argue and fight over things such their favorite music band being the best in the world or some pop star being a complete disaster born during the halloween . Apna funda to ethanoic acid ke formulae jaisa simple hain , I like the sound of some song , I like that . And if I don't like someone , I don't go around slitting the thyroid glands of those who do .

Like I guess every guy over 60 and some grandkid to get hold of will do so and muse 'Arre hamare zamane mein hote the singers , jaise K L Saigal , unhe sun kar kidneys jhoom uthtee thee" , but I have some emotionally disturbing memories of his singing . When I was a kid , my dad got all excited during a shopping trip and barged into a music store and bought an eight cassette collection of K L Saigal . That night , after dinner , he got together me and my sis .

Chal rambo bhai , ab main so jaata hun . I have started to get bored at home and need to arrange for some company and tie up a trip for some movie or something soon . And this time , I better be serious with any auto driver I talk to. Last song of the day before I hit the khatiya - Something Something by Mika !!! How exciting .

Friday, April 14, 2006

I don't know if it has been on discovery channel , but now I know for sure what occurs within eight minutes of a 24 year old boy landing a job - planets , comets , asteroids and a number of defunct satellites arrange themselves in a mysterious pattern in space which leads to a cosmic energy burst infusing thoughts regarding the boy's marriage in the minds of anyone having a mind remotely aware of his existence .

Now I am just 24 , a very innocent 'kacchi kali' level age where I drool all over in my sleep , think pink frocks look cute , drop half my ketchup on my tee shirt and have this tendency to suck my thumb under acute psycological pressure . But strangely , from the day I have been back at home , thoughts of my marriage are being considered as normal as a sardaar in a joke.

Papa has been sneering me with a 'Beta abhi shaadi hogi to pata chalega world war ke time kaisa feel hota tha' followed by the traditional evil laugh .Sister has been raising her left eyebrow disturbingly high with a sly smile everytime I talk of a female friend . And ma asks a "kaun thee ? " whenver my telephonic conversations with any girl exceeds three seconds . In short , while a month ago I was supposed to jump behind the nearest flowerpot at the sight of a girl, clutch the hanuman locket around my neck and remind myself that I need to study and get a job , these days no one is going to subject me to a round of honor killings if I keep walking and say a hello .After all , ab 2-3 saal mein shaadi to karega hi . Koi khud hee pasand kar le to problem kya hain ?

Now I have never been a guy who does the conventional thing , else I would not have spilled hot coffee over my crotch just to see what happens when I was thirteen ( And never , I mean never ask me what happened .Stirs up too many burning memories). So am not going to marry because every Indian guy is supposed to marry between the age of 24 and 30 .Instead , I need to think and decide if it's a good idea to marry at all.Of course , my parents expect me to marry in the next 2-4 years and show them the thobda of a fat little grandkid in 5-6 years , which , incidentally is a thing completely independent of marrriage in my noble opinion .

I am always imagining things .In class , I used to imagine the professor naked with a string of wriggling lizards around his neck to keep awake . So maybe I should imagine what my life would be like if I marry / I stay a kacchi kali ( or bachelor in more under 18 level terms) .

Scenario 1 :

I marry .

Now , due to an itch behind my left ear and a lack of decent names , let me name my imaginary wife , bijli devi . Like any husband in a hurry , I will address her as Bijli , or maybe Bij if I am in a real hurry . But you think of her as Mrs.Bijli Devi , she is not your wife after all .

I know how attractive I am . Like I was telling a friend recently , when I was eleven , my kaamwali left our work when I proposed to her and I am still viewed with suspicion if the present kaamwali threatens to leave work . So mine would not be the case where bijli first spots me as I kick start my yellow scooter in the parking lot of my office and thinks I look very macho when my foot comes down and falls in love with me and thinks about me everytime she hears a scooter's vroom and proposes to me the next time I am kicking my scooter and sparks fly and end up in our marriage . Even If I like someone , I am the sort of guy who feels all right after ten minutes of reading dilbert , a very "Theek hai yar , wo kaunsa mujhe pasand karti " kinda lad . So it is not very probable that I am going to propose to any prospective bijli either . So bijli shall come and electrify my life through an arranged marriage . Hopefully , bijli will like me as any wife likes her husband . She will ignore my emotionally disturbing table manners , an absolute disregard for 'log kya kahenge' and the seven inch scar across my left cheek . I will also try to keep her happy . Kids will happen and unwarned shit and piss will happen . Me and Bijli will fight sometimes , maybe , but I won't hit her , atleast not on the head . She will also hit me , and that's fine unless she uses the flowervase or the chair .But if she hits me on the head , I don't promise I won't hit her on the head . In short , me and bijli and our kids will be a nice little family . A happy family is more important for me than anything else ( except aishwarya's legs maybe ) , so I will try to keep my family cool . Keywords : Bijli . Kids. Kid Shit on sofa . Kid Piss on keyboard . Love . A little fighting . Smiles . Kid's fees . Bijli's beauty parlor expenses . A taj mahal sized RESPONSIBILITY .

Scenario 2 :

No shaadi . No Bijli.

My parents won't be happy . An emotional moment when I declare they are grandparents to a kid I had from some business trip to bangkok won't make them happy either . In short , my parents won't be happy with me if no bijli flows into my life's lamp . They will blame all the spiritual stuff I read and all the bearded guys in saffron alive . As for me , I don't have much idea about what kinda activities , apart from taking my secretary out , I shall be indulging in . Maybe I will retire from work at 35 , sponsor a kid in the meantime , and spend the rest of my life touring exotic places around the world ( Bangkok being one of them . What a machine I am. ) .I really don't know . I read about the meaning of life and think about it and try to read wisdom stuff , but don't know how I can use that by staying out of relations . Keywords : Freedom . Little responsibility . Unhappy parents . Early retirement . Financial ease .Meaning of life . Bangkok. Visits to buddhist monasteries . A little more of Bangkok.

So these are the options before me . I still have time before I come to the stage when I have to make a decision . Of course , life is like my cooking , I can put in a lot of masalas and flour and sugar but can never be sure of what comes out . Maybe I will move onto a higher level of awareness and life without marriage . Maybe I will feel the need for some bijli when I am 40 and get a '40 but in showroom condition' types matrimonial ad printed in the papers .Maybe I will find bliss in unconditional and unpossesive love I will hold for bijli and our little sparky kids . Maybe bijli will be very angry at the way I giggle when her dad pronounces lion as loin and hit me . And if she hits me on the head , I bet Bijli shall be subjected to an electrifying revenge .

People at home have a different perspective of things . At the hostel , a room fire would have been given the imprtance of a stray dog by me . But it was almost a national crisis scenario when ma declared "Aaj paani ki problem hain ! Jaldi se naha lo sab " an hour ago . My transition from espn to the bathroom was swift . There were so many lizards watching me whenever I bathed in the hostel bathroom , I feel strange without any company in the bathroom here . Also , I have been watching a decent amount of cricket on the television . Commentators on channels like espn and ten sports and espn are so correct , they are almost boring . Give me doordarshan's bumbling Maninder Singh who screams 'Sundar stroke !' as the batsman is clean bowled.

Some years ago , when Kapil Dev smacked his big lips and said "Yeh ball kuch jhuki jhuki huee daali hain fleming ne" during the commentary for a one day match , I fell in love with hindi commentary forever. I mean , a Geoff Boycott has to be in real good touch to provide what these hindi commentators do .

( During the commercial break , Rajesh , the scorer , informs yashpal that it is not pakistan but India , and the score is not 102 but 201 )

Also , have been reading some spiritual literature . 24 year old . Fresh IIM passout . Starts work in two months . I guess with these conditions I should be reading something like '101 ways to utilise the last sixty days of freedom , with a special pullout on how to propose to the colored hair neighbourhood girl you have always admired ' . But I have been reading a book which has a mist covered tree on its front cover and words like mokhsa , nirvana and enlightenment between its covers .I have just read about the theory of karma . It says my internet connection in this birth of mine is slow because during my last birth , I was a dog and chewed on some optical fibres to deprive an entire colony of internet . My ma checks on me during the night to see if I have bought a kamandal and hopped on the train to the nearest mountain peak . In fact , more than what I know , the way I think is more important to me . I have often been found to be as intelligent as a mosquito repellant machine , and I still get confused between left and right , so I am trying to make up for that by reading stuff which will make me more wise , if not intelligent .

And if ten years from now , the only guy staying back in India is a bazooka toting , pakistan bashing and angry Sunny ' Indian' Deol , I won't be surprised . One part of me has always wanted to wear caps and tee shirts which say 'Mera Bharat Mahan' , but the way politicians in urgent need of rapidex engliss speaking course are messing with insitutes such as IITs and IIMs in this nation , I am not sure if my kids will have the money to wear any kind of tee shirts . The OBC reservation announcement is genuinely the second most super duper export quality stupidity to happen to IIMs , the first being my admission . Being a general category student , I know it takes years of hard work , an incredible romance with lady luck , a lot of cash pumping into coaching institutes , and quintals of 'aashirwad' from our parents for us to get that one seat in an IIM . And then I switch on NDTV and learn that a bunch of politicans who need calculators to find the square root of nine and pronounce shanti as saanti just swooped away hundreds of such seats under their perfumed dhotis . I mean , one fine day in 2030 AD , I imagine a Ipod listening - spiked hair dude coming into my room as I lie on a chaarpai and asking me "Hey dad , I just cleared my engineering after flunking thrice , do I try for the six seats these IIM people got for us general category students ?". But this is not the time to panic , all the general category students affected by this move should remain strong and united and find the nearest OBC certificate printing shop where we can place our orders in bulk . Saste padega yaar .

Blogging from home as its advantages . You get a clean table with no coke glasses and half eaten biscuits lying around and you don't have to climb down three floors to the mess , you can keep sitting and yell 'bhookh lagi hain' and mummy tells you to shut up . But it has its disadvantages too . Like saira , our kaamwali asking me to get up as she has to sweep the floor under my computer table . So I guess this is it for now . Waise bhee , I think ma wants me to fill up some buckets before the water runs out . Paani ki problem hai na yaar .